


Claire's Rescue

by ke_xia



Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 00:50:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4543812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ke_xia/pseuds/ke_xia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dougal was not able to free Claire from BJR's grasp in Brockton and the whole crew has to intercept Randall taking her to Tolbooth prison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a collection of prompts sent in to [Imagine Claire & Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/tagged/%3Bclaire%27s-rescue) on tumblr, written by Mod Eli. (That's me!) I'm posting them here for easier reading and in case there's anyone over here on AO3 who might not be on tumblr. Do feel free to check the blog out, though, and send in prompts if you have more ideas for our favorite pair!

> anonymous said:  
>  Imagine Dougal not being able to free Claire from Brockton and them having to intercept Randall taking her to Tolbooth prison.

Dougal had seen Claire as they’d loaded her up in their wagon like a lamb off to its slaughter- and he hadn’t liked what he’d seen. Everyone had a breaking point, and Claire was bound to reach her own quickly enough, if she hadn’t already. She’d seen too much. Not only seen, but, according to Ned, she’d understood well enough just what Dougal’s cause was. Not even Colum could protect him from being hanged for treason should Claire sing under Randall’s harsh hand.

Jamie was terrified. He knew what Randall was capable of, and he knew what Dougal had told them about what he’d seen of Claire as she was shoved into a wagon to be carried off to prison, no doubt where the bastard Captain could ‘question’ her at his leisure. God only knew what other horrible things Randall might do to her on the road. 

The Scots rode at a breakneck speed through the night to catch up with Randall and his dragoons, for the Red Coats had a head start. They came upon them just before dawn. 

Ned had warned them not to kill anyone, so they’d taken their time scouting the camp. Claire was in the middle, curled up on her side facing the fire, her hands tied behind her back. In the end, they’d had to knock a few of the men in the head, and Jamie wasn’t the only man there who had been sorely tempted to slit Black Jack Randall’s throat when they’d gotten her free. 

“Claire?” Jamie’s voice was gentle as he took her icy hands in his own and rubbed them quickly, trying to work blood and warmth back into them. Her wrists were rubbed raw from the rope, so he was as gentle as he could be, “We dinna have time to linger here. Randall and the others’ll be searching the area soon. Will ye be all right to ride wi’ me?”

She’d been silent, hadn’t said a single word since he’d carried her out of the circle of Red Coats. At his question, though, she gave a small nod, tongue flicking out over the split in her lip. 

They rode hard, but not quite as madly as they had to get to her. Jamie knew Claire was in pain, because her entire body was tense and trembling, and her fingers bit into his arms tight enough to hurt him. Breathing didn’t seem to be coming easily for her, but he kept a careful eye on her, listening for any sign that she needed them to halt. The sun rose and they slowed their pace, finally stopping at a river several miles out from where they meant to meet up with the rest of the rent party. Jamie helped Claire down from the horse and she drifted away immediately, slipping into the brush. He gave her a few minutes to herself, then followed, finally finding her at the water’s edge just around a small bend in the river.

He stepped heavily so she wouldn’t be spooked, but she didn’t move even to look up at him. “Is it yer ribs, then?” he asked, noting that she’d loosened the laces of both gown and the stays beneath. “I ken it’ll hurt t’breathe, but I wonder if maybe keeping the stays tight might help?”

“You should’ve slit his throat,” she spoke at last, her voice venomous.

Jamie stopped where he was, swallowing hard. Guilt and regret bubbled up in him, and the desire to run back to his horse, ride straight back to Randall, and do just that was strong enough that he had to grit his teeth and clench his fists against it. “Aye, I ken that,” he mused quietly. “I’d ha’ done so, had it been just me there to get ye, Claire.” He inhaled deeply through his nose, glancing away, back to where he knew the others awaited them, as he reined in his emotions. When he looked back to Claire, she was crying, and it was like a knife in his heart. Murmuring softly in Gaelic, he went to her, wrapped his arms around her tenderly, and drew her in against him as she cried into his shoulder.

“I can’t go back now,” she sobbed softly. “I can’t bear to see him. To know who he is.” 

He frowned, stroking her hair as he gazed down at the water, and tried to figure out who she might be speaking about. He didn’t want to ask just yet, though, didn’t want to upset her further, so he simply rubbed her arm and pressed a kiss into her hair. Whatever she had been through in those hours without the protection of the MacKenzies, Claire had clearly seen something that’d spooked her. Someone she’d once known, perhaps? A soldier who was not so honorable as she’d once thought him to be? It didn’t matter, anyway. “Then ye’ll no’ have to go back. Ye stay here wi’ me, Claire. I’ll never let another man lay his hands on ye again.”

A broken sob escaped her; but for the first time since they’d rescued her, Jamie felt her relax in his arms. He kissed her head again and continued to rub her arm and pet her hair until she quieted, too tired for the effort tears required. “Now then, let’s wash yer face and tighten yer laces again, aye? Another hour or so and ye’ll be able to rest.” When she nodded against him, he slowly pulled back, plucked a handkerchief from his sleeve to dip in the water, then turned to wipe her tear-streaked face. 

Once she was cleaned up, Jamie lifted Claire into his arms, cradling her against his chest, and headed back toward the others. She was fast asleep against him by the time they had set off once more.


	2. Chapter 2

> anonymous said:  
>  Could you continue on from the one where Jamie rescues Claire from the redcoats? I really love how you capture the characters! They're perfect.

It’d been three days and Claire had been quiet. She’d thanked the men for rescuing her, but otherwise, she’d said very little, and she’d eaten even less. Jamie was getting worried. She hadn’t spoken of what Randall did to her, and his worst fears were eating at his mind so that he was kept awake all night long, watching her toss and turn under her blankets. He was seething with fury as the images filled his mind. Finally, though, he could take it no more.

It was just a bit of bread and broth, really, and he’d a flask of whiskey at his hip… just in case she’d prefer that. Claire was sitting alone while the rents were being collected, and Jamie went to her. “I’ve brought ye a wee bite,” he said softly as he took a seat next to her. 

“I’m not hungry, thank you.” She wrapped her arms more tightly around herself, closing herself off from him, but he’d have none of it. 

“Aye, I think ye are. Ye’re just ignoring what your body says ye need, Sassenach. It’s just a bit of broth and some bread. It’ll no’ hurt ye to eat, Claire. Please. I canna watch ye waste away any longer.”

“I’m hardly-” 

Jamie shot her an pointed look that shut her up- but only for a moment.

Claire huffed and looked away. “I don’t see why you care. The others certainly don’t. Dougal was just afraid I’d spill his secrets to the English.” Now it was her turn to give Jamie a look, daring him to deny the accusation. “It’d be easier, wouldn’t it? If I-”

“Stop,” he choked out. He made a strangled sound and squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. “Dinna say it, Claire. I couldna bear it if you-” He bit his lip and opened his eyes, gazing pleadingly at her. “Perhaps that was why the others came for you, but it wasna why I came.”

This only seemed to make her more confused. Her dark brows knitted together and she shifted a little, searching his face as she gazed at him. He huffed softly and reached out to set down the bowl and the bread he’d brought along. 

“When I saw ye laying there, I thought- well, I didna ken what they’d done to ye. I still dinna ken and it drives me mad to think about! Every moment since then, I’ve wanted to ride back to Randall and tear his heart out, cut off his balls and feed them to him- something. Anything. It maddens me to ken ye’ve been hurt, to see ye sitting alone and refusin’ to eat. I canna bear it, Claire. I canna bear your pain. I want to- to take it all into my own body so ye’ll no’ have to suffer for a moment longer!”

Claire choked in a soft breath, her eyes wide at the depth of his emotion. She’d had no idea. What he was saying… the way he was speaking- It couldn’t be possible, could it? That he might have feelings for her? How? she thought. Why?

“Jamie…” she began, her voice soft and rough with her own emotion. Slowly, she reached for his hand, slid her fingers along his palm and laced them with his own. His hand was so big, so warm. Hers fit like a puzzle piece within it, small and cradled with care. His hand tightened around hers enough that it almost hurt, but she didn’t try to pull away. It was good, that pain. “What you’re fearing- what you’re afraid they did… they didn’t. Randall- wanted to get me away. He knew Dougal was nearby and he was in a rush to get me out of there. He hit me and kicked me, but- but not that.”

Again, his hand tightened on hers and he pulled that hand toward him, pressing it against his chest as if he could make her pain go away simply by being near. And perhaps he did. Perhaps that pain eased just a little, knowing that there was someone who cared- who truly cared, after all. Both of his hands rubbed at hers now, and he lifted it to his lips so he could brush a tender kiss across her knuckles, his scruff chafing at her skin.

“I’m all right,” she whispered, squeezing his hand back. “I’ll be alright. I’m– I’m going to stay, Jamie. If you want me to.” 

He looked up at her, blinking in surprise. If anyone knew how much she’d wanted to get away since the moment she’d met Dougal and his men, it was Jamie. But now she was asking… He let out a soft laugh and kissed the back of her hand again. “Aye, Sassenach. I’d like that verra much. I thought I’d made that clear, but… aye. I’d like ye t’stay.”

Claire let out a soft sigh, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips, leaving Jamie blushing to the tips of his ears. Then she reached for the broth and bread he’d brought, took a deep breath, and began to eat slowly. Jamie moved as if to get up, but she reached out to lay her hand on his arm.

“Stay with me for a little while?” she asked softly, scooting closer. 

He watched her for a long moment, then simply nodded. “I’ll stay for as long as ye’ll have me, Sassenach,” he promised in a whisper.


	3. Chapter 3

> anonymous said:  
> Love your writing! You've perfectly captured Jamie's voice. Imagine Jamie's reaction when he learns Claire's married name is actually Randall, and her husband is Black Jack's ancestor.

They were riding behind the rest of the group, hanging back a little so they could speak in relative privacy. They held hands off and on, Claire feeling utterly like a girl again with her very first boyfriend. They were holding hands now, fingers shifting and shifting again, thumbs brushing back and forth over one another’s. Their knees brushed together as they rode, and they both sat their horses, gazing at one another with flushed cheeks. 

“I have to tell you something, Jamie,” she said softly at last. 

They were only another day and a half’s ride from Castle Leoch, and she wanted to speak with him before they spoke to anyone of their plans to marry. She squeezed his hand, watching him as he looked over her face with concern. 

“Aye? Out wi’ it, then Sassenach. Whatever it is, I’ll no’ judge ye,” he assured her.

Claire bit her lip and gave him a small smile. “You say that now. But I fear you’ll think me quite mad.” 

“Hey.” He pressed his horse over toward hers so that their knees pressed harder together. “I ken well when ye’re tellin’ me the truth, Claire. I willna think ye’re mad. Dinna worry about that.”

She studied his face for several more breaths, then nodded and took a deep breath, looking forward once more. “My name isn’t… technically Beauchamp. Well, my maiden name is, but not my married name. I’m-” Christ, how did she even begin to explain it? She inhaled deeply again and released the breath slowly. “The things I know- I know them because I’m… from the future.” Her gaze flicked toward his face, waiting for him to laugh in disbelief. His face was perfectly blank, though, so she sighed and went on. “My name is Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp Randall. I was born in 1918, and the man I married is the- the great-grandson several times over of Black Jack Randall.” 

His jaw clenched tight at that and he straightened in his saddle, stiff and uncomfortable. “How did ye come to be here, then?” he asked at last. 

She took great care to describe the details of her coming through the stones, her waking, and all that had led up to their first meeting. Claire watched Jamie’s face, still waiting for some sort of reaction beyond his silent contemplation. He said nothing for a long time, then finally his throat bobbed as he swallowed and looked over at her.

“When ye tried to escape the Castle-”

“I was trying to get back to the stones, yes.”

“And when ye said ye couldna go back?”

A shudder moved through Claire and she closed her eyes for a moment. “Frank is nothing like him,” she said quietly. “Nothing like him. He’s a historian. He could never be so cruel, and yet… I can’t go back to him. I couldn’t bear to let him touch me.”

Jamie grunted softly at that. 

“Jamie- beyond that… I don’t want to go back to him, if it’s even possible. I want to stay here with you.” He was staring at her again, unsure, and she let out a strained laugh. “Oh, my darling, don’t tell me you believe everything else I have said but not this?” 

He halted his horse and waited for her to do the same. “Ye’d choose to stay here, in a time lacking all the things ye’re used to, accept all the danger that comes with living here, and marry me, though I couldna promise you safety and a home of your own?”

Claire moved her horse in closer to Jamie’s, then reached once more for his hand. She took it, squeezed it tightly, and leaned over to brush a kiss over his knuckles. “I choose you, Jamie, and whatever life we might have together. And I know this is the right choice, because I have never felt so right in doing anything in my entire life. I love you. Is that not enough?”

His features softened at that and he nodded, giving her hand a squeeze in return. He leaned over and pulled her in a soft kiss. “Aye, Sassenach. It’s more than I could ever ha’ dreamed of. Come, then. We’ll speak of it no more. I’ll have you back to the Castle so we may be marrit and I may finally get you into my bed!” 

That made her laugh softly and give him a little shove. A devious look crossed her features, then. “Race you back to the group,” she teased. Without waiting for him, she gave her horse a kick and they shot off toward the others. 

Jamie remained there for a moment, watching her dark curls and the folds of her dress billow out behind her. Claire Randall, from the future. The thought was terrifying, but he believed her. And he was glad she didn’t want to go back. Historian or not, he would never allow her to go back into the hands of a Randall ever again. She’d be Claire Fraser soon anyway, and that was all that mattered.


	4. Chapter 4

> anonymous said:  
> A continuation to "Dougal not being able to free Claire from Brockton". Does Jamie marry her anyway? Can she love him back?

“No.”

Jamie and Claire looked to one another, then back to Colum. The Laird’s face was flushed brightly with anger. Jamie’s was beginning to turn red just the same. He shifted his feet, setting them wider apart in a challenging stance, and reached down to grasp Claire’s hand in his own.

“What do ye mean no?” he asked through his teeth, jaw set stubbornly.

Claire gave his hand a squeeze, but she kept silent otherwise. This was Jamie’s fight, she knew that well enough. For now, she could manage to keep her mouth shut and let him do the talking.

“I’ve brought ye in when ye had no place else to go, James Fraser. I’ve treated ye kindly, and ye ken damned well that I plan for ye to take my place when I’m gone! The clan’ll not support ye if ye’ve a Sassenach wife on your arm!” 

Jamie’s eyes narrowed for a moment, then he straightened and ran his free hand over his face, letting out a frustrated laugh. “The clan! Now I ken ye’re aware of Dougal’s plans for the clan one ye’re gone, uncle,” Jamie hissed. “And he’ll no’ let me live verra long were I to step in to make my claim as laird! I dinna want to be laird. It isna my place.”

“It is your place if I say it is!” Colum’s voice boomed suddenly all around them and Claire jumped a little, but Jamie only squeezed her hand tighter. Colum watched them for a while, gaze dropped from their faces to their joined hands and back. “If ye dinna want to accept what I have to offer,” he began, voice low and dangerous, “then ye can leave. Since ye clearly have better opportunities to accept elsewhere, take them. But ye can leave the Sassenach. She is my guest, after all.” 

Claire opened her mouth to protest that, but Jamie squeezed her hand painfully tight. All the same, her eyes narrowed as she gazed at Colum. If looks could kill, she thought angrily.

“Aye, then. I’ll say my goodbyes and be off.” 

Colum said nothing, but watched them both with a glare of his own as they made their way out of his study. Jamie gave Claire a look that told her to be silent, but moved swiftly through the halls toward the room she’d been staying in since she’d come to the castle. He tugged her inside and closed the door behind them, then waited in silence for a moment, listening. At last, he looked to Claire and released a heavy, frustrated breath. 

“Pack yer things, whatever ye can carry ahorseback. I’ll have Murtagh send the rest. I’ll be off in the stables preparing our horses, but ye stay here until nightfall, aye? Dinna go anywhere, Claire. I’ll come back for ye, and we’ll be gone from here together. Ye’ll be a prisoner of the MacKenzies no more.”

“But Jamie, where will we go?” she asked, brows knitted together as she gazed doubtfully at him.

“We’ll go to Lallybroch and have our wedding. Best we had it among true kin, anyway.”

“What about-”

“Aye, aye. The price on my head. We canna stay at Lallybroch for long, but it’ll be fine, for a few days. I’ll think on where we’ll go next. D’ye trust me, Sassenach, to see ye safe?” 

She blinked in surprise at the question, but nodded quickly. “Of course,” Claire answered softly. “Of course I trust you.” 

Jamie gave a firm nod and moved as if to head for the door. “Pack yer things, then. I’ll see ye tonight.”

She caught his hand, though, worry still pulling at her features, and forced him to pause a moment with her. He frowned at the concern she saw in her face. Suddenly, Jamie tugged her in against him, crushing her against his chest, and leaned down to catch her lips in a lingering kiss. “I’ll be back for ye, Claire. I swear it.”

And then he was gone.


End file.
